


Introductions

by My_Beating_Hart



Series: A Mahariel's Endings [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Gen, Gen Work, Warden at Skyhold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 14:58:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3386024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Beating_Hart/pseuds/My_Beating_Hart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Theron and Herah formally meet.<br/>Or, Theron gives the advisors a headache for the sake of dramatic timing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Introductions

Skyhold was buzzing with activity and chatter, far more than normal. The news had quickly spread that Leliana had managed to track down the elusive Hero of Ferelden, and that he would be arriving at some point today.

Herah Adaar peered down from the battlements down towards Skyhold’s gates as the latest stragglers from a refugee group were helped along the long bridge - women with young children, the elderly or the sick. Her green eyes flicked around what else she could see of the grounds from her high vantage point. Cullen would probably be down there with the soldiers helping, and she needed to speak with him about whether the Hero of Ferelden had sent a response to the offer of an armed and mounted escort.

The Inquisitor took a deep breath of the cold mountain air, and then pushed off from the battlements to go and find her military advisor. Being Qunari, she strode head and shoulders over many of the others in Skyhold - only Bull was taller than her. It was easy to pick out Cullen’s tousled blond hair and the feathered cloak he always wore, directing his soldiers to help the refugees up the stairs to the rest of Skyhold.

She was so focused on edging her way through the crowd of freshly-arrived refugees that whispered to themselves as she passed by that she almost walked into a stooped old man, a heavy black cloak drawn around his body with the hood up that hid his face from her, made him all but blind to people either side to him. Judging from the way he clutched tightly at a walking staff and was hunched over, he was old, small enough to perhaps be a human or elf.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Herah said, automatically stepping back. The weary traveller turned his head towards her - she caught the sight of a shadowed chin, but because of the fact she was looking down at him she couldn’t see the rest of his face.

“Hmph.” The old man croaked, shaking his head to himself as he slowly turned and limped off, grumbling roughly to himself. Herah let out a sigh, but carried on until she reached Cullen.

“Any word from the Hero of Ferelden yet?”

Cullen looked up, frowning as his mind switched from organising his men to the rest of the day’s business.

“A letter arrived a few hours ago, saying that he had no need of an escort because it would draw too much attention. He’s happy to make his own way here, I take it, although I’m concerned he might get lost in the mountains if he hasn’t already.” The human reported, hesitating for a moment. “He also said that we shouldn’t wait around just for him.” Cullen sighed.

“But all of this is about him. His knowledge about the darkspawn and Archdemons is invaluable.” Herah shook her head. Now the people of Skyhold knew that the legendary Hero of Ferelden was less than a day away, they were talking about him almost more than the Inquisition for a change.

Cullen could only shrug in response.

“Perhaps Leliana’s scouts could be of use?” He suggested, and Herah nodded once, horns cutting the air.

“I’ll go talk to her.” The Inquisitor said, once more working her way through the refugees that dawdled to take in Skyhold’s impressive majesty to find the other advisor in her rookery.

She’d barely opened her mouth when Leliana was ushering her back down the rookery steps and handing over a small scrap of paper that must have arrived by one of her birds.

‘ _By the time you read this, I will most likely already be in Skyhold. I look forward to seeing you, if I haven’t already_.’ It read.

“The Hero of Ferelden’s _here_?”

“I sent that bird out not half an hour ago to _Orlais_. It should not have returned for another week.”

“So he charmed one of your messengers out of the sky and it's job?”

“It would seem so.”

“Impressive.”

Their footsteps echoed on the stone steps as they worked their way down to the throne, Herah quickly running through her welcoming speech in her mind. There would be the formal introduction in front of the nobles and whoever else got into Skyhold’s hall, and then a more relaxed one in Josephine’s office for the Inquisition and the advisors.

“It seems he has a sense of humour.” Leliana answered.

“You knew him, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I had that honour long ago. Much has changed.”

The two walked out of one of the many doors that lined the long hallway, Leliana slipping across to go and wait in Josephine’s room. Speaking of Josephine, she was already standing waiting as Herah sat down on the throne. The room was only slightly more crowded than normal, but the door was left open so people could drift in and out as they wished. Herah squinted, and realised she could see the bent-over old man she’d almost stepped on down in the courtyard hobbling his way into the hall with the aid of a far younger elven refugee.

The room was still a low hum of chatter, so Herah and Josephine quickly conferred.

“Leliana got a letter that the Hero of Ferelden’s already here.” The Inquisitor reported, and Josephine blinked.

“Really?” She sounded surprised. “I have told the guards to announce his entrance, but they say they have not seen anyone fitting his description yet.”

Herah frowned.

“Perhaps the bird was quicker than him?”

“It would not be the first time that has happened.” Josephine agreed, frowning down at her clipboard. “I still advise waiting, to let the audience get settled.”

Herah nodded, leaning back in her seat and wondering just what they would do if the Hero of Ferelden didn’t come through Skyhold’s doors in the next few minutes.

The room grew quiet gradually as the audience settled down, and Herah could have sworn she saw some of the other members of her inner circle scattered about, Dorian and Varric watching curiously from the crowd.

Just when the expectant silence was starting to become awkward, Herah saw that someone had separated themselves from the crowd near the door and was slowly walking towards her. The staff clicked as it gently hit the stone floor, and soft shuffling footsteps brought the old refugee man perhaps halfway down the room before he stopped.

Herah leaned forwards, part of her realising before the old man straightened up and dropped his staff to the floor with a definite clatter that caused the room around him to fall silent. She was smiling when he tugged the hood of his cloak down, exposing youthful dark brown skin, a tattooed forehead and sharp grey eyes.

“Inquisitor, if this is the state of your security...” The Hero of Ferelden tutted in mock disapproval, shaking his head from side to side in a way that made his long braids flick from side to side.

He untied the cloak, letting it drop to the floor with the stick as he stepped forwards on silent feet until he was before Skyhold’s throne.

“I am Theron Mahariel, formerly of the Dalish Sabrae clan, Grey Warden, ranger, and called the Hero of Ferelden by many. It will be an honour to serve the Inquisition.” His voice was soft, and husky with disuse. Herah got the impression that he didn’t talk much. Looking at him now, in travel-worn leather armour with mud still rubbed into the metal buckles to hide the gleaming metal, he certainly didn’t look like anything more than a Dalish ranger. He looked too wild, as if he belonged anywhere _but_ civilisation.

“I am Herah Adaar, the Inquisitor. Others call me the Herald of Andraste. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Zevran's probably hanging round in the background somewhere laughing.


End file.
